Things I wanna do with you
by House-less
Summary: Series of one-shots inspired by a tumblr photo under the same title. Huddy.
1. Get Coffee

Hi you Huddy population ! I was checking on my Tumblr account in a lazy afternoon when I found a picture listing several " _things I want to do with you_ " and I told myself, well, why not make a one-shot inspired from each _thing._ Because ParijanTaiyou made the same thing in one of her fanfictions, I didn't felt it without asking her if I can do that too; she agreed and well, thank you Lisa, also for reading and correcting! Love ya xoxo

Every one-shot has its story, I'll precise the season/episode to set in every time and tell you if there are some references to another previous one-shot (there might be). For this one, it's around season four, at the very beginning. I love the level their relationship attended in this season *o*

Every review is welcome, so please lemme know if you liked it!

Enjoy :-D

* * *

 **Things I Wanna Do With You.**

 **1\. Get Coffee.**

It was late. Almost 9 pm. House was at his desk, concentrated on his paperwork as he had promised Cuddy –well, his definition of paperwork was very special: PSP video games, but who cared? Cameron was going to do it for him anyways.

He prepared himself to give a furious look to the one who dared annoy him while he was _working_ when he met the gaze of an even more furious Dean of Medicine. He gave her a childish look, so she would melt under his irresistible charm. But Cuddy didn't.

She sighed deeply and let her arms fall along her body, giving up. She was too tired to fight him that night. So, she made her way toward him and gave him a look; a pretty analyzing look. He looked at her weirdly as she sat down on a chair in front of his desk.

"Still here," she noticed half-angrily.

"Seems like it," he replied. "What is it?" he asked, skeptically.

"I'm spying on you," was her only answer. She smiled a bit when she saw how disconcerted he was.

"Don't you have some important stuff to do?" House said.

"I do," Cuddy replied, locking her gaze to his. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for a more specific explanation that didn't come. "How's your case going?" she asked to fill the blank.

"Fine. She's slowly dying but all is under control," he answered sarcastically as he put down his PSP.

Cuddy sighed and gave him a desperate look. "And this is your new genius method to keep things 'under control'?" she asked, pointing at his PSP.

"It helps me," was his answer. There was a pause, during which they just contemplated each other. "What are you _really_ doing here?" he finally asked.

"I was working on some extra-urgent-files," she started to explain. "I got tired so –

" _So_ you told yourself that annoying you favorite employee was the best solution," he completed for her.

"You're not my favorite employee," she replied. " _And_ you don't seem that _annoyed."_

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings," he quipped.

"Since when did you ever care about my _feelings?"_ she asked, smiling.

He didn't answer, making his way to the DDX room; Cuddy stared at him weirdly, wondering what the Diagnostician was plotting. House came back a few minutes later, a mug full of coffee in each hand. He gave one to Cuddy.

She looked at him, surprised. He had made coffee for her. "Thanks," she murmured, trying to convince herself that his gesture had no relation with the fact that she had told him that she was tired. He could've had made too much of it earlier, yeah. That was it.

House sat down again, looking attentively at the brunette in front of him. House wondered why he found the simple gesture of drinking coffee became so interesting to watch. She slowly took another gulp from the dark, warm drink. It was relaxing. Then, she raised her eyes and noticed him. He immediately looked away, ingurgitating some of his coffee too.

Neither of them said anything; they didn't want to break one of those rare moments where they were just relishing each other's presence. The coffee's smell was exalting and ridiculously delicious.

"Boring, huh?" he said, eying her and then looking at the few files on the desk.

"No it's very… Boring," she admitted.

"Tell me about it," he sighed.

She took another drink from the red mug and gave him a tiny smile. Then, she began listing the very interesting stuff Deans of Medicine were supposed to do. House didn't seem bored, he was just listening and often making some comments of his; which made her smile. He drank some coffee from time to time too; Cuddy made a pause every time to watch him.

"And... The best for the end!" She theatrically said.

He smiled knowingly.

"There is that special employee who makes it even harder," she said.

"But less annoying," House lifted.

"You say!" Cuddy said, laughing a bit.

He raised an eyebrow and pouted, Cuddy's laughs doubled.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't like my company," he argued.

"I'd rather be annoyed than bored," she countered.

"We'll say that," House said with a grin.

They shared a meaningful look and drank their beverages in a relaxing silence. "Your special employee, huh," he suddenly said a few seconds later, with a mockingly flirty tense and a raised eyebrow.

"In the bad sense of the term," she added with the same defiant look.

"I am sure," he laughed. "You are my special boss too."

"I am the only boss you have," She reminded him.

"Hum, you're special, since you're the only one who kept me for more than three weeks," he explained, drinking the last gulp of his coffee.

Cuddy sighed but gave him a tiny smile, which turned into a tiny _shy_ one. Although, she didn't let him notice it; Cuddy stood up, giving her watch a look. House jumped on his feet too and held the empty, still warm cups, his gaze searching Cuddy's.

"Well, it's late," Cuddy started.

"It is," he agreed.

"Maybe I should go back to my boring files," she said with a smile.

"And _I_ will go back to my even more boring… hum, _work_ ," House added.

"Ok," she said.

"Ok," he repeated.

Cuddy was starting to make her way outside when she stopped, looking back at House. "House?" she asked. He looked interrogatively at her, standing in the doorway of the DDX room. "Thanks. For the coffee," she finally said with a smile.

"You're welcome," he said, with one of those special smiles of his; mildly embarrassed.

She nodded, approving and murmured a "good night" before getting out of House's office. He kept looking at her silhouette until she completely disappeared and whispered a " _good night"_ when he couldn't see her anymore.

House finally paced his way to the DDX room, where he reluctantly started to wash the two mugs. He smiled when he saw Cuddy's lipstick mark on the edge of her mug. House remembered the pretty sexy red rouge she was wearing and the even sexier lips of hers and thought that, yeah, that woman was going to get to him.

Then, the whole conversation they had came to his mind.

He was her special employee. In the bad sense of the term. However, he was still _special_ to her. Just like she was to him. He stopped thinking when this very thought crossed his mind and focused on the hard task of washing the dishes.

The day after, at almost the same time as the last day, House was waiting for the elevator to go home after a long time spent at the hospital. He finally solved his case and now, he was exhausted.

The elevator's door opened and House made a face when he saw Cuddy in it, as he was upset at the sole idea of sharing the elevator with her. She pouted in the same way and made a step aside to let him come in.

The doors closed. Both of them stood silent for a few minutes; Cuddy gave him a look and realized how tired he was. He looked in her direction and met her gaze; it made him smile a bit, so she smiled back and readjusted her hair to do something else but looking deeply in his literally venomous blue eyes.

"My new method of thinking is effective," he said with a defiant proud tense. "The patient is out of danger."

"Lucky bastard," she said with a congratulation smile.

"Yeah," House sighed. "How are your boring files doing?"

"As usual, endless," she said with a sigh.

House didn't answer, he just gave her a comforting smile and then looked away. He yawned tightly and closed his eyes, massaging his temples. She gazed at him and without giving it a thought, Cuddy touched his arm. "I owe you a coffee," she said.

"A shot of vodka would be better," he replied in a moan.

"You got me coffee, coffee you'll get," Cuddy objected firmly.

He sighed again as the elevator's door opened. She pushed him outside and they made their way to the hospital's main door.

The end.

* * *

Thanks for reading, R&R !


	2. Wake up to see the sunrise

_Hi everyone! Here is the second one-shot of the series. It takes place right after the end of "Humpty dumpty". Let's say that it wasn't raining a few hours later, huh?  
And, yeah, thank you all for your kind words, they made my day :-D I hope you'll enjoy this one as well!_

* * *

 **2\. Wake up to see the sunrise.**

The house was quiet, and dark. The night was gently letting place to the daylight, although it was still a little dark.

Cuddy was deep in sleep when her phone rang, destroying the quietude of the room and bringing the woman out of her sleep, putting an end to her needed sleep. The few past days hadn't been especially easy.

She sleepily took the phone and hastily answered; the noise the ring made gave her a headache already. "What?" Cuddy said angrily.

"Woke you up?" the voice innocently asked.

Cuddy sighed. "You think?" she quipped. "What is it, House?"

"It was mean," he answered. "You deserved it but it was mean."

She frowned a bit, trying to understand what her employee was referring to. "What did I do to deserve being woke up at – she made a pause. "4 a.m?" she moaned with an adorable sleepy voice.

She could hear him laugh a bit. That was mean too, he knew she needed sleep. But he'd done worse and now, he was trying to fix it.

"I'm calling to apologize at 4 a.m, you should be flattered," House replied.

"You're apologizing?" Cuddy said, completely awake now, all her anger was gone.

"Don't make me regret it," he menaced, regretting it already. He wanted to end the phone call when he realized what he was doing. _Never call people at such early hours, especially your boss,_ House told himself with a sigh.

"Why are you apologizing at 4 a.m?" Cuddy asked, smiling in her bed.

"The Fred thing," he said.

" _Alfredo_ ," she corrected. "You're forgiven. Can I go back to sleep now?"

Saying that, Cuddy stood up and made her way to the window, opened the curtains and smiled at the view. She couldn't sleep again, anyway. The sole fact that House could be feeling guilty about his behavior made her feel revived. Plus, he was _showing_ his guilt and apologizing in his own special way; it made her day, already.

"No. The speech I've prepared just started," House objected.

"Shut up," Cuddy said with an amazed voice.

The sun was rising, slowly showing up and covering the town with its light. A multitude of colors was intercrossing in the horizon, going from the nuances of the red-yellow of the sun to the still dark blue of the sky; from hot to cold. Shy rays of sunshine were offering a pleasant warmth to the air, in contrast with the fresh air of the early morning. Everything was relishing in the sunrise, that day.

"Beautiful, huh?" House asked, a few minutes of delightful silence later. Cuddy jumped a bit, surprised. She'd completely forgotten House was on the other side of the phone. And he was watching the same wonderful view; that made her softly smile. She loved mornings like those.

"Beautiful," she whispered.

She didn't see him but Cuddy easily guessed that a tiny smile was playing on the edge of his lips and felt a little aroused when this thought came to her mind; and now, she wanted him to be next to her.

"You're a great doctor," House said after a while. "Don't let your emotions affect that."

"Thank you," Cuddy murmured. She wondered if he heard her. "See you at 10?"

"Make it 11."

"It's a date," she laughed as she hung up. The sun was a little higher in the sky, now.

The end.

* * *

Thanks for reading ! Leave me a review so I know you enjoyed (or not)

(Merci Lisa :* )

Xoxo


	3. Take dumb pictures

Hi! This is the third one-shot of the series; it takes place in "fetal position", which is one of my favorite episodes! I hope you'll enjoy this little "missing scene" :)

Oh, and, adult language and theme.

As always, feedbacks are so much appreciated! And as always, thank you Liz' :*

Enjoy!

* * *

 **3\. Take dumb pictures.**

"Give me that photo," Cuddy ordered as she stepped into House's office.

House raised his gaze and looked at her with wondering eyes. She took a few more steps towards him and paused when she was near enough to eye him scornfully. He smiled innocently. "Are you that frustrated, Dr. Cuddy?" he asked, provocatively.

"You pretty much know which photo I am talking about," Cuddy replied, half-angrily.

"I pretty much _don't_ ," he said softly, as he really had no idea which photograph Cuddy was demanding. He gazed at the picture under his desk and fought to suppress a laugh.

She got around the desk so she could get all his attention. House didn't seem to be impressed; he kept ignoring her. He also managed to hide the picture in order to save his life and gave her a mocking look as she shot him a dark one. "What is _that_?" she asked, pointing at his left hand.

"My penis," he answered as if it was supposed to be obvious.

"What's that _beside_ your penis?" she sighed, leaning toward said hand.

"You naughty girl, Cuddy," he teased. He was about to add something but the stare she offered him dissuaded him. He then innocently looked at her instead. Cuddy shook her head and sighed, she stood back up, putting her hands on her hips. She frowned and he smiled.

"I know it's with you," she assumed.

"As if I would touch myself looking at your dumbness," he provoked her. "Why would I want it?"

"And what kind of photos of me would you look at while you touch yourself?" Cuddy asked playfully. She didn't repress a smile when his face was distorted by shock, and she managed to immortalize it in a picture. "Say _cheese_!" she laughed when she clicked on the camera's button. The result was even more hilarious than expected; his face was a combination of surprise and disbelief: mouth opened and big round blue eyes with a little frown and that lost look he had made it even worse, but she found him somewhat cute.

"Really mature," he groaned when he could speak again.

"Tooth for tooth sweetheart," Cuddy quipped, feigning pity. Her laughs doubled when she looked again at the photograph. "You look _so_ perfect," she said, trying to look serious although she could not stop smiling.

She showed it to him. "Any arrangement possibility?" he sighed then, defeated. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

"Beg me," she gasped as she made her way out of the office, a little smile playing on the edge of her mouth.

He inhaled deeply not to lose control of himself.

* * *

A couple of hours later, and while Cuddy was achieving a couple of files with signing at the last page, House pushed the door open with his cane.

"I will give you another one."

"Another what?" Cuddy asked, lost.

"Another picture for your little private _pleasure_. But give me that one," he answered, only half-joking.

"I don't –

"Gimme my property," he interrupted her.

"I've no idea wh –

"Cuddy."

She smiled and sat more comfortably in her chair.

"Well, I assume that you know which photo _I_ want you to give me, now…," she started. He barely nodded and handed her the picture, muttering indecipherable words. "Great," she approved, not even looking at the photo of her. _Note to myself: kill Emma later. And bring her the camera back,_ Cuddy mused. _Who takes pictures of someone who is about to sneeze anyway…_

She rapidly put the photograph into her drawer and took his, gazing for a few seconds at the other one, which she was intending to keep. She shut the drawer, glanced at the dumb picture of his, and did not restrain a little chuckle, only to exasperate him.

"Great," he said back when she gave him the photograph. They had a short, silent debate with their eyes that seemed endless. A slight frown and a defiant look later, House returned to his office and Cuddy to her folders.

She looked at him as he approached the elevator and whispered an ' _I already have another one'_ while remembering the picture of him Emma agreed to give her. She smiled at the thought. A minute later, she was returning to her work, letting a little sigh pass the barrier of her lips when she glanced at the enormous amount of files waiting for her attention.

He silently waited for the elevator, a little silly smile playing on his lips. He ignored a nurse who was looking weirdly at him and made his way into the elevator. House's smile widened when his fingers grazed the surface of the picture in his jeans' pocket.

"This kind," he murmured as he mentally remembered the photo he'd took from Emma's room without asking.

Legs crossed, Cuddy was absently staring into the distance; her head on the palm of her right hand while her left one played with a curl of her released hair. Her back was slightly arched and a playful smile completed the picture. House mentally thanked Emma for taking the photograph and whispered a " _this kind"_ again before passing his way to the DDX room.

The end.

* * *

Many thanks to those who take some time to tell me what they thought about it :*


	4. Go on long walks

_Hi there!_

 _This one-shot, as you'll see it, is a post-Wilson's heart. It takes place about a month after the ending of that episode._

 _This one is for my bestie, I hope you'll like it Babe, you waited sooo much :*_

 _Enjoy it and let me know what you did think !_

* * *

 **4\. Go on long walks.**

Nothing is worse than suffering from a depression in autumn. Autumn is an aggravating circumstance. (*)

An aggravating circumstance. Depression.

The wind made its way throughout the man's coat, again. He slightly trembled, the fresh air contrasted with his body's warmth. He tightened the cloth around him and let out a sigh; the hot air formed an imperceptible cloud when it met the cold, fresh air of autumn.

A golden leaf danced a few seconds in the air before falling onto the ground in a muffled sound, joining the already fallen leafs. House observed them. A multitude of yellow and red shadows were forming a little heap on the floor, already. The trees had lost the major part of their dresses, and yet, it was early October.

He watched the still green leafs as he mentally made the count of the time that passed since the incident. Twenty-three days. His eyes followed the trajectory of another orange leaf as it joined the ground too. Darker leafs were on the bottom of the soft mounds, brown ones were already discomposing, melting so they feed mushrooms.

Twenty-three days had passed. He didn't see Wilson since the day Amber died. The thought made him frown, his fingers trembled slightly and he put them in his coat's pockets after adjusting his brown-cotton bonnet. He buried his face into his scarf as he tried not to think about the deep ache in his thigh and heart.

House shake his head when the souvenir of Wilson's last glare came to his mind, as if it would disappear doing so. He didn't feel guilty about her death itself but was blaming himself for his friend's grief and his non-ability to comfort him. _Comfort him._ He let out a bitter laugh at the thought as he looked at his left. Comforting people was the last thing he'd do; and, it wasn't like he was that good at it.

The wind blew harder but House didn't move, he closed his eyes and rubbed his thigh for a while; he sighed as the pain faded a bit and let him breathe correctly, for the moment. He frowned as he felt more than heard the quit and muffled sound of her footsteps and as her scent intoxicated his senses. Confusion overwhelmed him when he felt both annoyed and relived that she came.

A leaf danced in the air before falling onto the picnic table where he was sitting, he once more looked at it till it reached the wooden-table before looking up. He met her gaze: concerned. House said nothing and neither did Cuddy, they just looked at each another for a while and broke the eye-contact almost immediately, abruptly.

She analyzed him with a slight frown, he didn't look good. The collar of his pink shirt was visible under his dark coat which seemed to be oversized, or did he lose some weight. It didn't surprise her, the non-entertained three-days-beard he wore told her he was neglecting himself.

With a bitter smile, Cuddy settled herself on the table beside him, she kept looking at him. "How did you find me?" House finally asked, a few moments later, although he could stay silent for hours, just there, beside her.

"You were hiding?" she quipped, her voice low and warm.

He gave her an annoyed look but didn't add a word, waiting for an answer, if she felt to do so. Cuddy left a couple seconds pass and cleared her throat. "You didn't show up for a week," she said, sighing afterward.

"The Clinic was empty without me?" he teased, not even smiling.

"The Clinic is doing pretty well without you." She turned her face away. "But you... Are you okay, House?" she asked, facing him again.

"I am not the one who died," House said in a bitter voice.

"It's not -

"It's not my fault, I know," he completed for her.

"You did more than what had to be done," she added.

"It wasn't enough."

A heavy silence followed, only broken by the wind and the sound of their respirations. "You're in for a walk?" Cuddy suddenly asked, more to fill the blank than for anything else. He looked at her, raised an eyebrow and considered the degree of her serious.

"Cane vs. heels?" he teased, looking at the both with a hint of a sarcastic smile.

"We'll go slow," she answered him, already jumping on her feet.

Her voice was low and gentle, inciting without being formal; it was not an order, it was just an invitation. She turned back to face him and gave him an encouraging smile, their eyes met for a second but they immediately looked away.

She looked beautiful. Tucked in her coat, her high-heels-boots and a pair of black jeans, she looked so natural and yet so beautiful. He liked her coat. And her freed curled hair. He liked her came. And he liked her at that moment where their eyes met. The thought freaked him out and he wanted to run away, again. There was too much _like_ in it. He didn't like that, he didn't want to like her, didn't want to make her miserable like he was. Because that was all he could offer her.

"Come on," she whispered as she saw him hesitate. Her voice drew him out of his torpor.

He considered the suggestion and the pain in his thigh; both seemed to be good. House put his foot onto the ground, the left before the right, just in case. He made his 'I don't want to do this but I have no choice' face as he reached for his cane and followed Cuddy who made a few steps forward after rolling her eyes.

He adapted his footsteps to hers and they made their way by the walkway to the neighbored forest. Silence covered the air, even the birds stopped singing. Cuddy shot him a look and nodded slightly, tightening the belt of her coat around her waist when she looked back in front of herself as she met his gaze.

House looked back to the bunch he left a minute before and wondered if it was safe for his leg to go on a walk. Cuddy looked at him as he did and asked him if he wanted to go back on their steps. _Yes_ , he mused. But somehow, and for some reason, he shook his head in negation and walked a bit quicker. She followed him and walked beside him, they slowed their footsteps as they entered the forest.

No word was said, as if they made a silent pact. And there was something special in it. They just synchronized their footsteps so both of them would be comfortable and walked. Only the rhythmic sound of their steps and the wind filled the air.

"I was worried," Cuddy said, ten minutes later.

"I know."

"About both of you," she added carefully.

"I'm fine," he simply replied, avoiding the direction she was leading them to.

"You're everything but fine, House."

He avoided a mushrooms area and flinched when his cane sank in the moisten ground.

"You're saying that as you knew me," he cut her off, too coldly even for him. Because she was right. He wasn't exactly _fine_ and he didn't know why Amber's death was still affecting him that way. Guilt was something he felt in the first place, but now, he certainly was not feeling it. He didn't feel better, although. Wilson was the obvious answer although he didn't allow himself to admit it.

"I know you enough," Cuddy replied gently but firmly, still. She didn't resent him for his coldness or anger but did not want him to get too far with it.

He looked at her and for a moment, they stopped walking. "Why?"

"I told you. I was worried," she replied, obviously. She walked in front of him and he followed.

"No. Why are you worried," House pointed as he arrived at her height.

It was her turn to look at him. "I don't know. I wish I didn't, thowdugh," her answer came. "You're not easy to worry about." She smiled. He hit a pebble with his cane and kept doing so as they continued walking. Silence overwhelmed them again, in contrast with the noise their thoughts made in their heads. So, they kept walking slowly throughout the almost dark forest.

"Take," House said, handing her his scarf as he saw her tremble because of the cold wind that infiltrated into her coat and throughout her clothes and bare neck. "You worried about me, it's fair."

Cuddy kept looking at him disbelievingly, which made him realize he was acting totally out of character. He felt the urge to turn the situation into derision. "I am warmed anyway. And I'm not totally sure what you're wearing under that coat," he added, gesturing at her chest. She couldn't help but smile.

Cuddy took the dark cloth and put it around her neck, thanking him in a murmur and trying not to pay attention to the scent of his it held. But it was hard not to when it also had the warmth of his that comfortably enveloped her too.

He nodded as he watched her hook his scarf around her neck and looked down to the ground and to the cloudy sky afterward before fixing a point in front of him. He silently hoped it wouldn't rain.

"How is he?" House asked. His voice was almost inaudible. Hesitant, too.

"He's breathing."

His features hardened with that response and his grip around his cane tightened.

"You should go see him," Cuddy carefully added, looking everywhere but where he was.

"He wants to be alone." The wind took away the soft sound his long sigh made as he said it, remembering the last look Wilson gave him, just after her death. "And so do I. Why are you here?"

"He needs to be alone," she pointed out. "You don't."

"I _am_ alone," he bitterly told her.

"You're _so_ wrong," Cuddy said, half-laughing and shaking her head in desperation. "Why don't you just let anyone in? It hasn't to be me, you can just –

"I'm good, thank you."

"You're right. I don't even know why I keep caring for someone who doesn't care for himself," Cuddy said, the same coldness covering the tone of her voice. Neither of them expected the direction that conversation was taking.

"What are you waiting for to run away? I didn't ask for –

She was walking ahead when he stopped, standing with difficulty when his thigh protested against the long effort he demanded her. His right hand rubbed the scar in his leg trough his jeans, tempting to release the increasing tension in it. He sat on a tree stamp as he started feeling dizzy and not sure he could stay standing for long.

Cuddy was a few feet away when she realized he'd stopped for too long. Panic surrounded her as she joined him and saw pain painted on every inch of his face. She leaned toward him and he could see genuine worry in her eyes, not pity. "You're okay?"

"Do I seem to be _okay_?" he screamed, out of control.

Her eyes moistened, not expecting a so violent reaction from him, but she rapidly recollected herself and approached him more. "I am sorry," she whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. Which she took off as soon as she met his gaze, cold.

"Stop being sorry." House kept massaging his thigh, somewhat uncomfortably. He wasn't used to show his pain.

"Is… Is there anything I can do?" she asked instead of saying she was sorry again.

"Shut up. And go," he answered, not even looking at her.

"No."

Her answer made him raise his head to meet her eyes, he saw such a determination he was almost ashamed by his own behavior. "It's okay not to be okay," Cuddy said, locking their eyes with each another. He couldn't turn his head, although it was what he wanted.

"Why is it that important?"

She unhooked the scarf he gave her earlier and put it around his neck when she saw him tremble. He had a recoil when she did so and tried to pull the scarf away but she gently put her hands on his to stop him. "You're trembling," she told him as he looked at her hands on his.

"I'm hot," he nonchalantly responded.

"It's fever."

"You're a doctor?" he asked sarcastically but without a hint of amusement. Cuddy broke the contact and let her hands fell down along her body. He moved a bit, reaching for the amber bottle into his jeans pocket and shedding it from two pills, then swallowing them.

"You want me to –

"I don't need you," House cut her off, standing up and heading to the forest's exit.

He felt the urge to turn away as soon as she touched his hands. Her touch awakened memories he did want to burry. He didn't want to feel better as soon as she touches him, or be comfortable or relieved with her sole presence, he did not want to depend on her. Or on anyone.

"I am not asking you to fucking need me!" she yelled, still standing where he left her –a few steps behind him.

And yet, he did.

"You just need to understand that you need _something_." He stopped and gave her a quizzical look.

"I don't believe in that _something_ ," he muttered, looking away, not saying _the_ word either.

He believed in the kind of love that didn't demand him to prove his worth and sit in anxiety. He craved a natural connection, where his soul was able to recognize a feeling of home in another. (**)

"You're too hard with yourself."

"This way doesn't lead to an outcome; it's like rushing right into a wall, it hurts," he softly said, his voice calm and casual.

"It's not a general truth," Cuddy countered.

"It's what mostly happen."

"House…"

"Would you want _something_ with me?" he asked all of a sudden.

 _He_ wanted something free-flowing, something simple. Something that allowed him to be himself without question. She was that _something._ (**)And it scared him how easily he came up with that conclusion, but wasn't happy with it, though. The sole thought that it wasn't a shared feeling stopped him from telling her that.

"What's so wrong with you? What damaged you to this point, House?" she tried to know, approaching him again. He didn't answer, only shocking his head and letting out a soft but heavy sigh. And she didn't insist, she knew he wouldn't say anything if he didn't want to or if she pressured him. They walked beside each other for a few steps when he dared answer.

"You'll easily get bored."

A slight laugh passed the barrier of her lips. "I'm tougher than you think," she acknowledged him, fixing the barely distinct sunset in front of them. "And I don't want you to change."

Cuddy cast him a look. "I'll drive you home."

"Home," he repeated in a distant voice. She kept walking throughout the walkway in complete silence and so did he, the sleeves of their coats touched at times but not their skins. Her palm accidentally grazed his for a second after what, House stepped aside with the terrible desire to feel her hand against his, just like it was when he woke up at the hospital and a few minutes before, when she stopped him from pulling off his scarf.

Almost shyly, as he was afraid of her reaction, he gently took her right hand. He tried to make it nonchalant, natural but he was not used to that kind of things and felt terribly uncomfortable and strangely good at the same time. She hooked their fingers once she felt he wouldn't retract, giving him the assurance and affection he needed, although she was surprised by his gesture at the first place.

They didn't say a word, again. Not one single look was shared, either. The fragility of that moment was too big to risk destroying the whole of it with one of their silly comportments. He felt like he was entering home, and, surprisingly, that vulnerability it held didn't push him to run away.

She squeezed his hand a bit when they joined the park again, pushing him to look at her. Cuddy gestured to the other side of the park and told him her car was parked there; he agreed and left her hand as he told her he'd wait here there.

He breathed sharply, looking at her as she walked and looked down at his own hand, which was holding hers just a second before and remembered the touch of hers and how it felt good. Admitting that cost him a lot but he did, he allowed himself to feel it and be in the moment, without thinking about the second it will all fall apart.

They arrived at Baker Street ten minutes later, the streets were almost empty. Neither of them said a word during the ride until they were parked in front of House's apartment. "Let me know if you change your mind and decide to _believe,"_ she said as she unlocked the car's doors.

His blue eyes met hers for what seemed forever. He felt the urge to look away, and the need to touch her. The freedom she offered him relieved him and eased if not all, some of his doubts.

She hadn't look away when he came back to reality, her gaze was still riveted on him and his drifted to her lips. House considered the wisdom of the act he was bursting to do but drove away all the rational thoughts that would stop him from caressing the lips of hers when Cuddy bit her lip while looking at his.

He drove them into a soft and tender kiss, tasting her first and letting her do the same. He kissed her and she kissed back, she let him take control of the soft, light caress they were sharing. House kissed her deeper, his tongue matching perfectly with hers as their breaths met and melt into each other, warm and gentle. She craved his face with her hands and gently caressed his cheeks as their tongues danced. His right hand settled on her waist while the other one cupped the back of her head, holding her closer.

She moaned softly into his mouth and he wanted it to last forever.

Breathless, he glanced at his apartment's door behind him and hesitate; that was unknown ground for him and he wasn't sure about the next move. "We'll go slow," she whispered as she saw him.

She smiled and he smiled back.

THE END.

* * *

(*) Diane Meur.

(**) Inspired by Joey Palermo.

I also apologize for any mistake I made.

R&R?


	5. Listen to nice music

_Hi ! :)_

 _This one-shot is -already the_ _fifth in the series, five more to go! I hope you'll like it as well! It's to set somewhere in the beginning of season 6._

 _I was going to use Hugh's music but a dear friend of mine asked me if I could make it Bruce Springsteen's so Bruce it is. I really hope I did a good job, thanks for allowing me to do so, Babe._

 _Check out his songs, he's, and for the least I know him, great! You can read this with listenin_ _g to 'Tougher Than The Rest' it'll help you understand some things more easily._

 _A little wink to Lisa, you like diversity ;) and thanks for correcting me!_

 _I hope you'll like it!_

* * *

 **5\. Listen to nice music.**

The road was dark and almost empty. Only a few late workers were regaining their homes. Workaholics like her. She wondered if working late was their refuge too. Work and music. An orange traffic light made her slow the car and she realized how fast she was actually driving. A sigh escaped her dry mouth.

She stopped the vehicle as the light became red, she hated the time the pause gave her to think about _it_ again. She swallowed the tears that filled her blue-gray eyes at the memory and drove again when the light turned to green.

Bypassing the car in front of her, Cuddy turned the CD player on and put a specific CD as she drove even faster. The fresh air of the evening dried her humid eyes and the music calmed her a bit; closing the car window, she sighed as she slowed the car again to let a couple cross the road. The two women smiled at her and she managed to smile back. A bitter smile replaced it when she saw them holding hands. She felt lonely.

A shake of her head later, Cuddy ran the engine again as she closed the window. She focused on the music playing gently into her car and found herself enjoying the speed. She felt like she was on a bubble that only she was allowed to enter; it made her feel better.

Anger overwhelmed her again when she saw his silhouette a few meters away. She didn't often let this emotion take control over her, especially when he was concerned, but it was too much. He was walking, his limp slightly more accentuated than usual, which meant he was in pain. She wondered why he wasn't using his bike or car.

Without knowing the exact reason that pushed her to do so and swallowing her clearly unjustified pride and resentment, she parked the car at his height by the sidewalk and leaned over to open the car door after she honked to catch his attention. She said no word, just waited until he made up his mind and sat beside her. Cuddy even ignored the quizzical and confused look he cast her.

Ten seconds passed before she leaned toward him and closed the car door by herself. Still without a word, she regained the road, only the music playing loud filling the atmosphere.

"Your place?" she asked as she accelerated. Her tone was mechanical and casual, as if she was mentally absent.

"Sullivan's," he told her.

He kept silent afterward, following the rhythm of the music, patting his fingertips onto his good thigh. The song was relaxing and pleasing; he liked its slow rhythm, unlike her fast driving. It surprised him how he didn't recognize her.

"Slow down, coyote," he said when she shifted up a gear and dangerously drove into a turn. She didn't seem to notice him.

"I thought you liked the speed." And she rushed even more.

"When _I_ am driving," he pointed out.

He looked at her but she didn't react, focusing on the barely lightened road. "Okay. Pull over, ma'am," he ordered firmly as she honked for the fifth time to urge the vehicle in front of them to get aside.

This time, Cuddy obeyed, parking the car by the sidewalk as she lowered the music volume. She resolutely looked in front of herself.

"Are you high?" House shouted as soon as the car stopped as he reached for her keys and took them.

"I didn't push you to come," Cuddy said calmly.

"I didn't know you'd try to kill us."

She sighed and her sigh melted with the last fading notes of the music. "I'm sorry, okay?" she said, almost yelling. "Now if you want to go, the doors are open. You may want to give me my keys back before."

"Here it goes! It's not because your boy toy upsets you that you have to let loose on me!"

"Who told you it's him? You'd be pleased, wouldn't you?"

He closed his eyes for a second, considered his want to go further with that discussion and opened them again, meeting her gaze as the first notes of ' _Tougher Than The Rest_ _'_ started. He looked at her blue dress and inwardly smiled at the irony. "Because I didn't do anything to upset you and since he's an absolute idiot –

"Even when you don't do anything, you manage to ruin my happiness," she cut him off before he said anything else.

"Seems logical."

He watched her as she raised the volume of the music. Two cars drove past them, she followed them with her gaze until they were far in the horizon. House kept silent, the music enveloping the car again.

He knew that song but couldn't put a name on it yet. The man kept singing and he saw her relax as the time passed. Her features softened and he could swear that, for a brief moment, her eyes moistened.

"What did he do again?" he asked, waiting for a reaction.

" _Again_? Why? Did he ever do anything?" she countered when she recollected herself. "This sounds more like _you_ , House."

"You're comparing me to _him?_ "

"You're right. You didn't run away, you," she sighed.

"He…"

"I didn't see anything coming," she laughed bitterly.

"He's an idiot," House repeated, looking away for a while.

"I thought he was more resistant."

House looked at her again, confused. "They all freak out the second they meet you –you meet them," she added after a sigh. "But he didn't, not immediately. But even when you quit messing with my life, House, you manage to ruin it …"

"I'm not sure I am following …" House said, inciting her to explain more.

"Remember my Valentine's day date?" He nodded. "He left right after you dropped by, he heard us." House kept silent, waiting for her to continue. She took a deep breath that made him ache for an unknown reason. "He said… He told me that I was different when I was with you, that I was… me," she finally said, and shook her head, as to negate her statement.

"Well, the real you is pretty much savage," he tried to tease her. She gave him a desperate look, but her mouth curled into a half-smile before it disappeared.

"Lucas never saw you as the problem, but he left anyway, saying that he couldn't be with someone who loved someone else. I know he meant you but he didn't say it aloud."

House looked in front of himself, unable to lock his gaze with hers and see the words her eyes were screaming.

"And you're upset because of this? Of him?" he asked, not looking at her.

"I'm upset because he's right." He watched her for a while, the music's rhythm still rocking them. "I have feelings for you, and I hate that."

"There is at least something positive in it," he quipped, trying not to show her how destabilizing that conversation was for him. He understood her fears and knew that he wasn't the safest choice but… "I'm tougher than the rest," he whispered, daring to look at her as he did.

"And I'm rough," she added, incapable of holding back a smile. "But I'm not ready."

"And we're being a little cliché," House said as the next track began. "I'll wait," he assured her nonchalantly.

"Thank you," Cuddy smiled. "Can I have my keys back, officer?"

"No homicide attempts?"

"I promise," she laughed as he handed her the keys and drove them to the bar, more slowly this time.

"I like this guy," he said, a few minutes later, gesturing to the CD player as Bruce sang ' _Drive All Night'._

She only smiled, looking at the road in front of her as he raised the volume of the music.

"Come on, we'll see if they have some lesbian cocktails for you," House offered when she parked the car in front of said bar.

She cast him a dark look but got out of the car and followed him.

"Cuddy?" he called as they sat.

"Hum?"

"Next time, you pay."

* * *

The end.

 **N/A** :"If you are rough and ready for love, honey I'm tougher than the rest" inspired me the lines "I'm tougher than the rest" "And I'm rough, but not ready".

The songs I used for this OS belongs to the great Bruce Springsteen.

Thanks a lot for reading :D


	6. Watch The Sunset

Hi,

I was bored with myself so I decided to scroll through my gallery and I found the tumblr photo that initially inspired me this series of drabbles. So voila, here you are with a new one. It's to set in that episode the violated girl wouldn't to talk to anyone but House – remember the scene when they're talking in the park? It goes from after she's gone. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

 **6\. Watch the sunset.**

There was a heavy, awkward silence in the park though the singing of the birds and a vague noise coming from the area reserved for the kids to play. Several joggers were passing by, too. But all he could hear was silence.

It was mid-July, that time of the year where he came to work in just a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. The week had been exhausting; a really complicated case showed up and the heat wave wouldn't end. It was then that his leg hurt the most – the fabric of his jeans wouldn't help much either.

It was almost 8 pm but the sun was still in the partly cloudy sky – different tones of red and dark blue and shades of purple and orange. It was beautiful. He looked up, relishing the beauty of the near sunset and the fresh breeze going through his white t-shirt – finally. He would bet thunder would come if not that night, the day after. But for now, sitting on a bench in the park, he was happy with the wind after days of unbearable high temperatures. Though _happy_ wasn't what would define him at that moment – or at any, for that matter.

He sighed, as if he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. And he did, somehow.

"I just saw that girl … Your patient – well, as a psychologist at least. She looks … Better."

House looked down, only to find Cuddy standing at his right side, leaning on the picnic table. She sat beside him, in scrubs.

"Good."

"You look terrible."

"Thank you. I worked hard on it." He took a pause to breathe. "You don't look better yourself. You look like you came out of a horror movie. A bad horror movie."

"I know." She looked down; there was a little bit of blood on her scrubs.

She tiredly rubbed her shoulder in a vain attempt to sooth the pain in it. The hospital had ran out of staff, so she had had to help with an eight hours surgery – House's patient's surgery. It hadn't worked out like they wanted.

"We did what we had to do," she said. She knew how much losing a patient affected him even if he was too stubborn to admit it.

"It wasn't enough to keep him alive though, shame," he sarcastically said.

"You're not God, House. You can't save everyone."

"Even he doesn't save everyone."

"I'm too tired for this conversation."

He looked at her. "Shame."

"Shut up."

"Okay."

Cuddy put her feet on the bench and rested her chin on her knees. They watched the sunset in silence while they could, both lost in their thoughts. They were too dark they couldn't even fully enjoy the beauty the sky was offering.

"That sucks."

"I know," she whispered, looking at the now dark sky. She didn't realize how long they stayed there, staring into the distance. They shared way more than a sunset.

They sighed, as if they held the weight of the world on their shoulders. And they did, somehow.

The End.


	7. Hold Hands

Hi guys!

The other day, my friend prompted me something where there would be holding hands, so here you go. (thanks, Ju) I hope you like it, lemme know.

 **7\. Hold Hands.**

She was literally panicking now.

It was just a cold, he kept telling her. But go convince her.

''What if she contracted something in that abandoned house...''

''She didn't contract no shit. You on the other hand... You've gotten a serious paranoia syndrome, my dear.''

''And where did you get your asshood syndrome?''

''Cute. She has a _cold_ , not whatever rare disease you're thinking about.''

They looked at Rachel. Her little chest was moving at the rhythm of her breathing. She was attached to several machines the neonatal service required. But she was going to be fine eventually. And, of course, Cuddy was having a panic attack because of a flu.

And it was starting to get serious.

House looked at her when she leaned on the wall, trying to regulate her breathing. He closed his eyes, rubbing them tiredly. He couldn't ignore her serious worry.

''Here. Sit.''

And he helped her to sit down on a chair, facing the neonatal room where her daughter was. He put a hand in hers, the other one maintaining her waist. She didn't let go of his hand when they sat down, and he didn't mind to feel her warm palm against his and her little fingers squeezing his hand tightly.

''You said you'd trust me with your baby the other day.''

She looked at him, nodded.

''She's going to be fine. I'll personally play the nurse and get sure she doesn't need anything,'' he said then, making eye contact. His voice was warm and gentle.

Again, she nodded. She seemed to calm down, the worry on her face starting to ease a bit.

''We cool?''

''Yeah.''

But he didn't let go of her hand.


	8. Sing Stupid Songs

Hi all!

I was making a list of the works I still had in progress to - try - finish them before I start something new (lol) and thought I'd start with this one. After this drabble, there will be two left and the series will be complete. I'll try to get it finished by the end of the year (a girl can dream). Thanks for the support you show my stories, it really means a lot to me.

I'll leave you with this one, it's set in Humpty Dumpty. Enjoy!

* * *

 **8\. Sing stupid songs.**

 _Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,_  
 _Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,_

 _All the ..._

House stopped humming the lyrics of the song when Cuddy gave him that life threatening look of hers that turned him on and scared him at the same time. He raised his eyebrows at her, his gaze innocently questioning.

"You'll never let me live it down, huh?" she sighed, pressing the floor button. She rested her eyes on the closing doors of the elevator, her arms defensively crossed over her chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about," House retorted, fighting back the urge to whistle the melody of that stupid song.

"Can we do that later? I'm not exactly playing now." She refused to look at him.

 _... horses and -_

"Stop with that stupid song if you value your life," she cut him off.

He knew she wasn't in the mood - God, he knew she wasn't. But he couldn't help it. Teasing her was a close next to the Vicodine on the list of his addictions - and he _had_ some addictions. But House knew the limits and he knew when to stop, so he stayed silent. He looked at her, almost adoringly. There was something soft in her when she let her vulnerability show that made things to him. He watched her determined frame, her impeccable appearance, the confident look on her face and a smile curved his lips; he knew better.

"At least put him together again," Cuddy spoke again, finally casting him a look. He saw the worry, the trust she put in him and made it his personal mission to save Alfredo - perhaps more than he usually did.

He gave her a quick nod and, with that, he stormed out through the opening doors of the elevator.

* * *

 _All the horses and all the king's men,_

 _Couldn't put Humpty together again,_

 _Humpty ..._

Cuddy stopped humming the lyrics of the - _oh,_ damned - song when House entered her office. But it was too late, she knew he had heard the now familiar melody. She sighed. If she had a slim chance of him letting her live it down, now she's ruined it. And his smirk only confirmed her fears.

"But the Great Diagnostician, patched him up again!" House sang, trying to somehow match the rhythm of the original song.

He waited for the reaction he knew would have. She put on her annoyed look. He grinned.

"Don't get offended. I'd gladly add 'with the help of his Boss' but it's already hard enough to keep up with the rhythm," he added, walking up to her desk and letting his body heavily fall onto one of the chairs. "However, you did a great job, Dr. Cuddy," he pointed out dramatically as not to hurt her feelings.

She gave him a knowing look, her features softer and a bit more relaxed. She was glad, relieved to hear it from him and the use of her title made her heart full with pride. Although he made it sound ironic, she knew when he was sincere; from how he avoided her gaze for a second, playing with his cane between his legs, the little hesitation in his voice, and the almost unnoticeable smile that he quickly covered with a smirk.

"I'm sure there is enough space for me," she said, playing along. They looked defiantly at each other for a moment. Cuddy put her elbows on her desk and leaned forward, waiting for his reply. Instead, he gave her a slight smile and got up. And she was fine withe that answer.

"I should stop with that stupid song, huh?" he said mockingly before he made his way to the door. She almost, _almost,_ believed he'd let it slip that time.

Cuddy couldn't help herself but hum the song again. As she switched off the lamp on her desk, she knew it'd stick with her all night.


	9. Travel to somewhere new

Hey all!

Life has been crazy these last weeks, I'm sorry it takes me forever to update (especially the sequel to Maybe Baby I've started, but I'll get to it very soon). This is the drabble second to last to this series. It's set in Airborne (03x18) - well, before the actual episode (and a little after). Except what happens in this one-shot, everything else is similar to the episode.

I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, I hope you like it too! Feedback is much appreciated :)

* * *

 **9\. Travel to somewhere new.**

House peered over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of what was in her hand. She slightly turned her head toward him, watching his reaction. She saw him nod slowly before he turned his gaze to the other postcards exposed in front of them.

"What's the difference, anyway? They are all the same and he'll love anything you pick," he complained when he couldn't decide which one he preferred. Cuddy put the card back to its place and tilted her head to the side.

"I know," was the sole response he received before she moved to another aisle of the tiny library, leaving him behind her. House sighed, but followed her anyway.

"This," he said, pointing at one of the postcards.

Cuddy took it to take a close look to it. She examined it; it showed the city by night: the skyscrapers and the many buildings, the attractions, the monuments, and the sea that was also visible in the background, were all illuminated by the many lights of the town.

"I was thinking about something more exotic," she eventually said, furrowing her brows.

"Well, this is the only place we actually visited," he said, shrugging.

He saw her flinch at his words. "I never get to visit,'' she sighed. She immediately regained composure and turned to face him. "Guess we're taking this one then," she said. And she went to the cash box.

"There is still time to visit," he said when they were out of the store, somewhat awkwardly suggesting they went to visit the area.

Cuddy looked at him, amused. "We don't have a guide. The city's so big! We'll spend more time looking for the way than actually visiting," she replied, lightly shrugging and walked down the street beside him.

"We have five hours to kill before we have to go to the airport," he countered. "A hop on-hop off sightseeing bus tour is the best option if you want to see everything in a short time."

House smirked when she turned to him in shock. "Let's find one."

He hardly swallowed a laugh when she entered the bus, ignoring the cane he was holding for her to climb to the roofless deck of the bus.

"Hilarious," Cuddy said as she took a seat next to him.

For the next three hours, they listened to the guide speaking through the microphone and admired the views he was describing. House would occasionally add a comment about a specific monument or randomly throw in an information about what they were seeing that the guide haven't mentioned. She listened carefully to what he had to say, wondering what else she didn't know about him.

"See something you like?" he asked from behind her.

She turned completely to face him, her eyes anchored in his.

"Yes," she said, maintaining the eye contact.

Just when his lips curved to form a smirk, she waved the rectangular carton paper in front of him and grinned. He took a closer look at the postcard that showed a bus similar to the one they'd been in and the city in the background and raised his eyebrows at her. Her grin only grew wider.

"Alright," he said, half-chuckling.

Back at the hotel room, they each busied themselves writing a postcard to Wilson – as Cuddy insisted. She put the final touch to hers and turned to watch House. He was sitting on her bed, facing her, and very concentrated on his task. Cuddy leaned forward to take a glimpse on what he was writing and her adoring smile faded into a roll of her eyes.

"'The weather is beautiful. I'm eating well (and Cuddy).' Really?" she said, exasperated.

"Like he's going to believe that," House defended himself.

"Well," she admitted, leaning further more toward him and kissing him lightly on the mouth. "I'll get ready."

"We still have time," he said suggestively.

As she watched her watch, she realized he was right.

A little less than twelve hours and quite a scare later, they finally landed in New York.

"I've got it," Cuddy said to the air hostess, smiling politely as she took control of the wheelchair and walked past her.

She hated it – God, she did - , but she couldn't help but feel the pound of jealousy in her chest whenever a woman was getting a little too close to him. Most of the time, and due to their relationship being secret for the moment, she had to suck it up and accept that women were attracted to him.

"Shut up," she commanded. She could hear him think and his smile only confirmed her thoughts.

"She wasn't serious about that," was all he said as a response. "Women won't stick around a man they need to push in a wheelchair to get out of an airport."

"I will."

"I'm disabled. You know that, right?" He looked up at her and just then she realized how vulnerable the man before her was.

"I think I've figured."

"You don't get it –

"I love you. Disabled or not." She let the words sink in before she continued, "Are you breaking up with me, House? Because if not, we have four hours to kill before our next plane."

House only nodded, he didn't trust his voice to speak up.

"Way to end a trip…" Cuddy murmured, heading them to the exit door.

The End.


End file.
